The Phoenix and the Eagle
by Snow White The Brave
Summary: It is strange how two destinies can become so intertwined in such a short amount of time. It was the last thing Scottish Assassin Rowena Rose expected when she met fellow Assassin Connor Kenway. Sparks flew almost instantly, and the two majestic birds realized one could not survive without the other. Connor/OC smutty tales! M for language and sexy times! You've been warned!
1. The Last of her Kind

** A/N Hello lovelies! New story! :D I was playing Assassin's Creed 3 recently and realized how much love Connor needs, so here ya go! This will be a love story between your favorite native assassin and my OC, a Scottish lady assassin who totally turns Connor on. The usual, smutty content with a big dose of awesomeness. Enjoy!**

**The Last of her Kind**

It is strange how two destinies can become so intertwined in such a short amount of time. It was the last thing Rowena Rose expected when she relocated from her home in Scotland to the colonies in 1776, just in time to see the states claim independence from the British. She couldn't blame them. Great Britain was an empire that wanted to steal away the entire world into its own. Her father had nursed a personal vendetta against England for merging with Scotland when King James I inherited the British throne in 1603. Before James had become King, the British waged a war with Scotland when Queen Elizabeth I indicated Queen Mary of Scots a threat, having her beheaded. When Elizabeth died, there was no heir save James, and so the countries were unified in 1707.

Rowena had witnessed England's tyranny, she being the only living female Assassin of the time. She had traveled all over Europe during her training and had even met King George III himself, disguised as a noblewoman. She soon found herself being relocated when her family home was destroyed and her family dead. Rowena blamed British soldiers who had attempted to silence her father when he had spoken out publicly against the English government. She had left the country with her inheritance and her skills, not before slaughtering every one of the soldiers.

The ship she had departed on was a furnished and sturdy ship known asthe _Aquila_, which was departing Scotland back to Boston. The captain had been a friend of her father's and had welcomed the lovely young woman graciously onto the ship. The ride itself was pretty quiet, minus a few of the sailor's attempts to bed her. She had threatened to snap their necks if they even made an attempt, and so they mostly stayed away. To earn her passage, Rowena gladly assisted with the ship's daily work, to which the men on deck found themselves astounded at the strength of the beautiful buxom redhead.

Light porcelain skin glowed in the bright sunlight, light violet irises sparkled like the ocean waves. Long, luscious red hair bounced with her every movement as her adorable face freckles darkened in the daily work. She ignored the norm of women's clothing and wore loose white shirts tucked inside khaki trousers, with her knee high assassin boots clinging to her calves in every gorgeous way. She was truly a beauty.

* * *

The sailors of the _Aquila_ arrived in Boston in a little less than a month, and Rowena wrinkled her nose at the odorous scent that emulated from the city. It was nothing like the open, foresty plains of Scotland. The Aquila docked and the sailors piled off with the cargo destined to sell. Robert Faulkner, the captain, ushered the young woman off the ship.

"Go take a look at the city, lass! I'll be right here until the cargo is all sold, and we'll head back to base where a friend of mine will take you in," said Faulkner as Rowena shuffled off the ship. She had changed into women's attire, braiding her hair down and pulling it over her shoulder. Wearing the sailor clothes would only draw attention to herself, which was the last thing she wanted. Rowena was indeed clever, and wouldn't carelessly give herself away. She walked about the city sightseeing, watching the townsfolk go about their daily lives. It seemed that people here were most definitely a little calmer than her fellow Scots. She did her best to ignore the stares she got from the folk, some admiring, and some enviable. A group of men who were talking to each other outside of a tavern noticed her, when one even whistled at her and grabbed at her skirts, to which she shoved against the wall with her hidden blades drawn out of her long sleeves.

"Hold up there, girly, that's not ladylike," he stammered, his friends backing away slowly in fright. Rowena bared her teeth and growled at him, her purple eyes almost black in anger.

"Don't think for a minute that I give a fuck about what 'ladylike' is, colonial," she hissed in her beautiful thick Scottish accent. Withdrawing her blades, she released the man and went about her way, all of the men too scared to go after her or report her. Fortunately, the townsfolk seemed too busy to have noticed what happened, but Rowena couldn't help but feel a set of secret eyes watching her every move.

* * *

After about an hour of sightseeing, Rowena returned to the ship, the sailors preparing to leave. "Lass! Perfect timing! We're just about to set sail!" exclaimed Faulkner as she boarded the ship. Rowena nodded at him in thanks and went to her chambers under the deck to get out of the dress and back into the sailor clothes. Night had fallen and the crescent moon rose over the horizon as Rowena returned to the deck, joining Faulkner by the wheel. She leant over the railing to gaze at the moon, losing herself in the beauty. Faulkner noticed her silence and joined her there.

"Pretty thing, isn't it?" he asked, gesturing towards the glowing white sliver of cosmic wonder. She nodded in response, her pretty purple eyes sparkling in the glow. Faulkner thought for a moment how Rowena must be feeling with her family dead, everything she ever knew a crumble of ash. It wasn't really a wonder how angry she was, rejecting those who tried to gain her attentions. She was lonely. She needed someone who understood how she felt. Someone who could make her feel whole again, and the _Aquila_ leader knew exactly who could help her do just that.

* * *

They docked the next afternoon in a place called the Davenport Homestead, where Faulkner said Rowena would be brought in under the care of his friend. Still dressed in her sailor's clothes, Rowena thanked Faulkner for his help and lugged two suitcases off of the ship, waiting for whomever Faulkner said would take her in. She set the two suitcases down and went over to a tall apple tree, the delicious red fruits perfectly ripe. Looking around, Rowena quickly tumbled up the tree, swinging on the branches and flipping and climbing until she could grab the best apple on the tree at the very top. She crouched in the branches for a while, eating the apple until she saw a carriage coming in the distance. She poised and kept waiting. The carriage pulled up to the little house a few yards from the boarding deck, and an older gentleman with a cane stepped off of the carriage, walking with an expected limp over to Faulkner, who stood from his chair.

"So, where is this young lady you've been talking about?" asked the old man, leaning on his cane. Faulkner noticed her suitcases and looked around, unaware that she had climbed the tree.

"Not quite sure, old chap. She was here a while ago…" Faulkner said, continuing to look around. "Young girls should not be left unattended," the crippled man remarked, hitting his cane into the ground. Rowena snarled quietly.

"Trust me, this girl's different. Scottish, bred and born in the toughest regions of this earth. She did more work on my ship than all of my men combined," Faulkner exclaimed, using big hand gestures. Rowena smirked, Faulkner usually didn't have bad things to say about people.

"Well, regardless of that, we are left short of a scheduled young woman who you asked me to take into my care!" yelled the old man, hobbling back towards his carriage. With a roll of her eyes, Rowena dived from the branch where she perched and landed in a graceful cat position on the ground. Faulkner and his friend were a little taken aback at her sudden appearance, but both seemed relieved to see as she straightened out and stood up, walking towards them.

"Ah, there you are," said the man, closing the distance between them, holding out his hand to the woman. Rowena went in to shake it, but was a little startled as the cripple brought her hand to his lips where he left a gentle kiss. Rowena kept her composure and allowed him to greet her traditionally as Faulkner joined them.

"Well Row, I guess I'd better see you off!" he said, clapping a big hand on her shoulder. Rowena smiled and embraced the old captain, placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I will never forget your kindness, Robert. I am forever in your debt." She replied. "Nah, we're even. Your performance on my ship got us here, I'm happy that you're safe."

* * *

With the last few goodbyes, Rowena had her things loaded into the carriage, and she was off, the carriage pulling her towards her new home. The buxom redhead and the older gentleman sat in silence for a while as she leaned her head on her arms resting on the open window. Since this was more foresty land, it was starting to feel a little more like home. It seemed America was a little more brown in the landscape, whereas in Scotland, everything was green.

Eventually, her driver broke the silence, his countenance very fierce, yet contained. She wondered what he had done in his younger years. "When Faulkner wrote to me about you, I couldn't say no about taking you in. It is difficult, to lose one's family and home." said the driver compassionately.

"It's in the past now, and I must focus on my future now," replied the girl in her thick accent. "You are wise beyond your years, my girl. Tell me, what is your name?" he asked.

"Rowena Rose, sir. Might I ask yours?"

"My name… is Achilles."


	2. Homestead

Achilles and Rowena arrived at the Davenport Manor, a beautifully furbished home complete with stables and a training ground; not to mention the immense openness of the land, perfect for hunting game.

"Your homeland is beautiful," said Rowena, gazing out at the beautiful pasturelands, dreaming about all the hiking and riding to be done. It was almost exciting.

"I'm sure it doesn't beat the vast greenlands of Scotland," said Achilles, snapping the horses pulling the carriages into gear, pulling up into the stable grounds. Once stationed, Rowena eagerly hopped out, assisting Achilles with the horses, putting them back in the stalls. They were lovely specimens, a bright white mare and a pitch black stallion, definitely purebred Quarters. Rowena took quite a liking to the mare, stroking her nose while Achilles put the stallion away. He noticed the affection that the pretty girl was sharing with the mare, and chuckled slightly.

"She likes you already," he remarked, hitting his cane into the wood floor. Rowena smiled and planted a soft kiss on the mare's muzzle, to which the horse nickered affectionately.

"My family ran a horse ranch back in Scotland, I've always loved them. 'Rowena' means 'white mane' in Celtic, you know." said the redhead, ruffling a hand through the horse's milk-white mane. "Were you white-haired before?" asked Achilles curiously.

_Yes, the red came from the splattering blood of my foes_, thought the buxom huntress. "When I was a wee babe, my hair was as white as the mountain snow. As I grew, it changed to the color 'tis now." explained Rowena as they walked out of the stable. But as they did so, Rowena's assassin instincts kicked into gear and she swung around, pulling Achilles against her back, much to his surprise. Poised on the roof of the stable they had just exited was… an Assassin! Or, at least, someone who was dressed just like one, with a white coat coupled with red and blue accents, his hood pulled up. He was extremely muscular, almost twice the girth of her, regardless of her breast size (which was already strapped down as much as she could make it). She snarled at the man and drew her hidden blades which were hidden beneath her sleeves.

"Wha- You?! An Assassin?!" exclaimed Achilles as he hobbled away from her. Rowena ignored him and focused her attentions on her target at hand. She could almost see a smirk on the man's pouty lips, and she could make out very tan skin beneath the hood. Gracefully, the man hopped down and casually began to walk towards her, drawing his own hidden blades. Rowena just kept her stance and waited for him to get close enough… before she swerved and got behind him hitting her elbow into his back. He grunted in pain and fell forward a few feet, scrambling to keep standing.

She countered while he stumbled and kicked him square in the rump, sending him flat onto his stomach. She could hardly suppress a laugh as she kept her poise, ready for any move he might make. Why wasn't he fighting back? Any Assassin who wore that armor had to be worthy of it. The man before her jumped from his stomach onto his feet, drawing his own blades, he darted back towards her and the two began a deadly tango, utilizing their years of training into the combat they were in now.

When she noticed he was gaining the upper hand as his bigger stature was making her back away more, towards the stable wall, she jumped into the air and did a rounded kick into his chest, sending him back away. She withdrew her blades and ran at him, headbutting him right in the stomach, sending both of the Assassins down onto the ground, the hood of the assassin falling to reveal his face, one of his blades cutting through her shirt and breast bindings, where her very voluptuous breasts peeped through the cut as she landed on top of him. Just before the assassins could tear each other apart, they halted. They halted to just..._ look_, at each other.

The hood had fallen to reveal a very handsomely structured Native American with big brown eyes, a big nose, and very full pouty lips. He had sleek black hair pulled back into a ponytail with an eagle feather attachment. Light freckles dotted his nose and the skin surrounding it, which Rowena thought adorable. She blushed as she admired the amazing specimen lying before her. She couldn't help but notice a blush rise on his cheeks as his eyes wandered down to see her exposed cleavage pressing against his chest, and she swore she felt a bump rise against her stomach as she lied on top of him. It took everything Rowena had to not kiss the man before her, regardless of not even knowing his name. She hadn't even realized how close their faces were until Achillies stumbled over to them, cane right beside their faces.

The two warriors immediately scrambled off of each other, standing up with red blushes, Rowena pulling her torn shirt together and the other Assassin attempting to hide his obvious erection. Achilles looked between the two flustered Assassins, before rolling his eyes and limping over to the grown man. He clapped his hand on the broad native's shoulder.

"Rowena, this is Connor. He lives here with me. He is, just like you, an Assassin." Achilles said with a little bitterness in his voice. He wasn't a firm believer in women being Assassins, mainly because they had an upper hand over the males. They were nimbler and quicker, which was better in killing quietly. Connor stepped forward again with an extended hand. Rowena stepped forward with him and also put out her hand to shake it, but blushed madly when Connor pulled her in close to softly kiss her hand while his chocolate browns gazed into her amethyst purples. Their bodies were almost touching now, causing even more arousal to fill the air. Achilles rolled his eyes and hobbled away, muttering under his breath. "Teenagers."

The two young adults had totally forgotten about him as they continued to stare into each other's eyes, sharing a connection so rare, it didn't even exist in the real world. All of Rowena's hatred and heartache melted away in the man's brown eyes, and all that mattered was him. She could sense that he understood her, related to her pain. Words weren't even needed as the two hardened Assassin's poured out their souls to one another in complete silence as his lips lingered on her hand. Only when a single glistening tear rolled down Rowena's freckly cheek, did Connor break the distance and kiss the tear away, feeling the warmth of the blush emulating from her cheeks. He pulled back ever so slightly to look into her eyes again. Gods, they were gorgeous. He had never seen a woman with purple eyes before, let alone a redhead or a girl with such soft porcelain skin. She had freckles, just like him, faint but noticeable. She was so lovely. Her ruby red lips pursed in a sigh, her dark lashes fluttering to swat the tears away. The watery eyes only made the purples sparkle.

"Your eyes… they're beautiful," he whispered softly, the first spoken words between the two. She giggled and averted her gaze, looking down between them, realizing her torn shirt now dangled open. She looked up and realized he had been looking down as well. Pulling away out of embarrassment, she closed her shirt again and brushed her hair out of her face. Connor smiled and offered his arm to her to escort her into the home. She raised a brow to him questionably, but he just laughed.

"Do not worry, I understand you don't like to be treated like a woman, but let me show you that I can be a man," he said. She smiled and walked forwards to take his arm after adjusting her shirt so her cleavage wasn't dangling out. They walked towards the manor together, immediately beginning conversation like they had been friends for years.

"Scotland? That's a while away isn't it? North of England?" asked Connor. "Aye, that. My Ma and Pop owned a horse ranch, before British soldiers burnt it to the ground, killing my family with it."

"I can understand your pain, my mother died in a fire that Englishmen set to my village, one of whom was my own father…" said Connor almost melancholy.

"Haythem Kenway… the Grand Master of the Colony Templars?" asked Rowena, stopping them for a moment to look Connor straight in the eyes with a hint of worry. She knew who Haythem was, a danger to mankind and very manipulative. Connor's father, as well…

"Do not worry, Rowena. I killed him," he said solemnly with a hint of sadness. Rowena continued walking up with him to the mansion, but they stopped outside as they came to the porch.

"I am sorry you had to kill your own father," she said sadly, their connections even deeper now that they shared the loss of families. Connor hung his head for a moment before meeting her eyes again, raising a hand to take a strand of long purple hair into his fingers, feeling the soft texture beneath his fingers.

They gazed into each other's eye for a moment, leaning in towards each other ever so slightly, until Achilles threw open the front door and looked between the two irritably before hobbling away on his cane, muttering something about teenagers and their hormones… Connor just laughed and showed her inside.

"You will get used to him, he's just been lonely for too long."

A few weeks passed, and Rowena was getting well-accustomed to her new home. She had her own bedroom upstairs and Achilles had given her the white mare, who was called Diamond Ghost, for she was as beautiful as a diamond but as silent and swift as a ghost. It was pure heaven hunting in the woods with Connor, collecting game for the estate or cutting down trees for firewood with winter fast approaching.

The young woman and man developed a special friendship as they spent time together, hunting, assassinating, riding, or just playing a game of chess in the fireglow back in the manor. Rowena finally felt herself able to open up and be herself around Connor, something she had never been able to do with anyone, even her own family, given their line of work. With the Templar threat no longer present in Middle Colonies, the two Assassins could rest. Rowena soon found herself developing feelings for Connor, regardless of not knowing much about him, his past, or what he's done. But it didn't matter to her. If needed be, she'd stay with him forever.

One evening, Achilles had gone to town to pick up some new tools for the home improvement that they had been working on to advance the house, and Connor had gone hunting. So Rowena had the home to herself. Restless, as any Assassin is, she kept herself occupied by sweeping the bottom floor of the home after cooking dinner. She wore a simple white blouse tucked inside a long, flimsy black skirt with her flame locks cascading in curls down her back. Ever since she had met Connor, she had opened up to her more feminine side, accepting Achilles' offer for her to take the clothes his wife and daughters used to wear.

She still liked her comfortable trousers and baggy shirts on occasion, but had started practicing a few more of the things women usually did back home. Her mother taught her how to sew, cook, clean, the basics. But Rowena had been more interested in horseback riding, fencing, and archery. But the skills her mother had taught stuck around, and now she was able to put them to use.

After putting the broom away, Rowena walked up to her bedroom to prepare for bed, when she heard the door slam from downstairs. Connor. She heard his big footsteps hurrying, _rushing_ even up the stairs. She figured he was irritable again and hunting hadn't gone well and he just wanted to go to bed. But his footsteps didn't head towards his room further from hers… 12 steps… 13…. 17…_ he was headed towards her room! _

Rowena braced herself to ready for Connor's wrath, not knowing why he would be angry with her… were her muffins not to his liking? No, no. Absurd. She turned towards her door from her dresser mirror with her arms folded. What could he need? She got her answer as he burst into her room, shirtless and scratched up, his black hair strewn about while he was coated in a layer of sweat. He looked at her with a very feral, hungry, lustful look in his eyes. She understood his body language. He needed her, and he needed her now.

"Connor, what the fuck are you-" Rowena couldn't even finish her sentence due to Connor inhumanly dashing straight to her and crashing his body and lips against her own. Everything outside of this bedroom disappeared as Rowena felt Connor's lips wrapped around her own, his tongue darting straight into her mouth to proclaim a war in her caves.

Rowena's cheeks turned a lovely hue of scarlet as the native embraced her so passionately, and she couldn't stop herself from wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him even closer to her quivering body. She was inexperienced, never having been in such a position before, let alone having never been with a man before! But her body seemed to know exactly what to do as Connor lifted her and crashed her against the wall, her legs wrapping around his waist to press their groins together. Connor grunted audibly as his lips broke from her own to peck at her soft porcelain neck.

"Good hell, Connor…" growled the female as she entangled her slender fingers into his black locks. The male just groaned in response to her, her neck still occupied by his mouth. But as Rowena found fingers undoing the buttons of her shirt, she lost herself in the ecstasy, the back of her head resting against the wall and her eyes fluttering closed.

Connor soon had her white shirt removed from her body and the only thing that separated his mouth from her peaks were the bounds tied around her chest. With an easy rip of his teeth, Rowena's round, heavy breasts fell from their confinement and Connor wasted no time in latching onto one of her pale pink tits, sucking so harshly it made Rowena scream. His teeth grazed her sensitive crowns and she groaned appreciatively, her fingers winding themselves into his hair and crawling down his neck and to the scars on his neck, which she traced softly with her fingers while he sucked like a starved pup.

With an audible pop, the large man released the woman's tit and swiftly crashed them both onto the bed, writhing against her possessively as their lips were once again crashed together in war. Rowena found herself pushing down the remainder of Connor's clothes off of his waist, and she expected undergarments to adorn him, but he indeed went commando. The man impatiently pulled down her skirts and and kept on her underwear binds while he pulled back momentarily to push off his pants from around his ankles. Rowena propped up on her elbows to get a look at his naked body, and found her pale cheeks go cherry. Below the man's handsome face were broad, strong shoulders framing a well-defined chest, tapering above a sculpted abdomen and lower to…

Oh.

Oh. Sweet. Hell. Connor was enormously well-endowed. Rowena had seen male genitalia before, being in the Assassin's business surrounded by men who didn't really care about women seeing them nude. She had witnessed many different sizes and shapes, but Connor's was by far the largest and most beautiful she had ever seen. He was full with arousal, his tip reddened with strain. He must've noticed her admirable stares, because when caramel eyes met purple ones, Connor was blushing just as badly. Smiling, Rowena scrambled to all fours, beckoning Connor forward so she could begin to stroke him, earning a pleased grunt from him.

"Where in the sane hell did you get this?" she growled sensually, investigating the strange organ from different angles as she handled it. "Good question…" she chuckled, his whole body shuddering with his laughter. Seeing some of his release collect in a drop on his tip, she went forward and began to suck on the head of his cock, relishing in Connor's moans of pleasure.

"Rowena… good _hell,_ Row…" he grunted, bucking his hips slightly into her mouth. Rowena almost gagged on him as he began to buck, but she withstood it and let him experience the pleasure he was seeming to feel. She would meet him halfway with his bucks so that her lips meet his base, his testicles smacking her chin. They found a steady rhythm and soon Connor was groaning like a bull in rut.

"Row… I'm going to…" he whimpered before she felt a burst of warm, sticky liquid shoot down her throat. To brace herself, she held her hands on his sculpted thighs, and waited until his first orgasm was finished before she pulled away, wiping off her rosy lips. Before she could even look up at him, Connor tackled her to the bed and pressed his body down against his own, kissing her furiously. She moaned into his lips as their tongue wrapped around each other like pythons. Connor began to slide down her body, kissing his way down her stomach until his lips reached the hem of her underwear. He looked up at her with pleading eyes, and through her lustful and flushed gaze, she nodded in approval. Slowly, Connor pulled down the only barrier between his lips and her maidenhood, marveling in her lovely rosy scent. Rowena always smelled so divine, and it drove him past the border of sanity as he witnessed her glory, already wet and ready for him.

There was a triangle of blood-red hair atop her cunny, curly and soft, just like the hair on her head. With just one more smell of her, Connor's tongue swiped in one motion across her lips. Rowena cried out, the pleasure of this only heightened her arousal and made her damper. Connor wasted no time in plunging his tongue deep into her, tasting her sugary flavor and stopping to suck the bundle of nerves atop the lips while two of his fingers began to pump inside of her sex. Rowena thrashed about on the bed, her purple eyes shut as her voice screamed to the ceiling. It was a damn good thing nobody else lived too nearby, otherwise they'd be heard.

Soon enough, Rowena reached her very first orgasm, and washed Connor's face with her pretty pink juices. When he came up from the juncture between her legs, he wiped his face off with a smile before crawling back over her. They situated themselves so that her head rested on the pillows of her bed while he positioned himself between her legs. "Connor… I've never done this before…" she whimpered as his big length prodded her entrance. Connor looked at her lovingly before leaning down to kiss her lips.

"Neither have I." And then he pushed himself inside.

Agony. Blissful agony. All Rowena could do was scream and wait for the pain to subside as Connor placed his hands on either sides of her head, bracing himself up while his manhood now plunged deep into her newly initiated womanhood. Connor groaned out loudly as he felt his cock buried balls-deep within her. Lord knew how long he had wanted to do this… ever since he had first laid true eyes on Rowena, he had wanted her. Such a beauty… with her long, blood-stained red hair, her fair skin, her enchanting lavender hues… He kissed away the tears that ran down her cheeks and whispered sweet promises in her ear, running strong hands over her lovely form. "You're doing great, Row… you can do it…"

Rowena bit her lip as she waited for the torn muscle deep in her core to settle and soon enough, the painful stretch and break was eased and soon she felt a little better. She began to crave more from him and opened her eyes to look into his own, smiling encouragingly.

"It's okay, Con… you… you can start moving…" she whimpered, wanting… no, _needing_ more of him. Connor smiled and obliged, beginning slow thrusts that elicited groans from the both of them as they slowly and sweetly began their lovemaking. But soon enough, slow movements of their lips became wild poundings of their bodies, the bed shaking beneath them as they went at it like animals.

"Fuck, Row! So… so _tight_!"

"Con… you're_ huge_!"

Screams were sounded, along with curses and praises that were cried into the night. Skin slapped against skin, and the sheets beneath them were stained with the mixture of their own bodily fluids. Eventually, both of the young lovers began to feel restraint in their groins, a beg for release.

"Row… I'm going to…"

"Come inside of me, Connor…"

And so he did. With one final cry of bliss, the Native shot his load right into the Scot, filling her with so much, it spilt from her opening. He fell onto her in exhaustion, and Rowena gladly accepted him, putting her arms around his back while they both tried to breathe again. Connor softened within her and slowly pulled out, pulling the sheets over them as he pulled Rowena close to him. After a few moments of pure bliss, the woman spoke.

"So, what made you so worked up that you needed to come home and fuck me?" she asked with a laugh, tilting her chin up towards him. The handsome man chuckled and looked down at her.

"I was hunting when I came across the breeding of two deer. It was so wild and needy, I couldn't help but imagine doing to same to you. Before I could get home, I was attacked by a very _very_ horny mountain lion. It aroused me in the strangest way, and all I could think about was making love to you…" said Connor.

Rowena looked up to him curiously and kissed his neck. She reached over to the water bowl by her nightstand and fetched the rag inside of it. She began to clean the wounds all around him as he lay back. She followed each wound with a soft kiss. Once she was done, she looked at Connor lovingly and cuddled in next to him.

"In that case, I'm sure as hell glad that you were attacked by a horny mountain lion."


End file.
